The Artist and The Arsonist Poor Little Rich Girl
by TheReal-Xslayer
Summary: A story of troubled souls. This story is the kind that deals with some of the hardships of life. I honestly don't know how to describe it. It takes place in four points of views notincluding omniscient. The story revolves around, Gwen a girl learning to deal with the traumas of her past, and Heather a spoiled rich girl learning how to grow a heart. It's very disturbing. GxD and HxA
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

_**The Artist and the Arsonist/ Poor Little Rich Girl**_

**Chapter 1**

Beads of sweat rushed down her face, as she violently jerked left to right. Her hands gripped the sides of her mattress, as she let out a bloodcurdling scream - that surprisingly didn't wake the neighbors. Tears began to form across the seams in her eyelids, as her voice began to grow hoarse from the screams…

She awoke from the nightmare, sobbing to herself, sitting up in bed, with her back against the black wall of her apartment. Wiping away the tears, she got her sketchbook out of the drawer in the nightstand, that was right beside her bed, and she began to draw. Drawing helped rid her of any negative emotion, all her pains and worries neatly dispersed onto her canvas through the thick coal lines that slowly began to appear.

She drew of a girl in a white dress, gently crying to herself in a corner, as a man gripped a knife covered in a fine red liquid. His back turned away from a woman, in a pool of it.

"Hello, Gwen. How are you today?" asked a tenacious Doctor Taylor. "Fine," she replied looking at the beige coated walls of the room. "You don't look fine. How many hours of sleep did you get last night?" he asked pushing back his black rimmed spectacles. "Like… five or something." She continued, to stare at the walls, refusing to look at the doctor, for she didn't want to be here, and she wanted it to be over as quick as possible. "Gwen… what happened?" the doctor asked, "you were making such progress." The girl looked directly at the doctor, "I know… Can I show you something?" Doctor Taylor sighed, before smiling. "Of course." Taking her sketchbook out of a black bag, she carefully flipped through the pages, before stopping at a drawing of a little girl and handing it to the doctor. "I couldn't sleep, so I drew this."

"Is this one of your memories?" the doctor asked. She nodded her head. Dr. Taylor put the book down on a table to his right, and stopped to take a note. "The session is almost over," the doctor said, "Do you remember when you first came here? How you used to self-harm? I was able to help you through that, and I'm going to help you get through this. I want you to promise me something though."

"Anything."

"Promise me that no matter what happens you'll believe you can get past this. I want you to believe in yourself, I want you to believe in me, and I want you to believe in others – that's the only way you'll get better. I believe in you Gwen."

The timer sounded, indicating the end of their session. The two stood up, the girl getting her sketchbook along the way. "I promise to try. Thank you doc." "No problem kiddo. See, now you're hugging me without a fuss. That's progress."

***Flash Back*:**

He lay down in bed, isolated from the rest of the boys, as he waited for the passing minutes to become hours. His thoughts circled around in his brain, as he contemplated when the time would come that he would be aloud leave. He longed for the smell of the fresh air, after being locked up like a loon, and denied any fair human treatment, after being punished for defending himself.

His criminal activities had lasted him since childhood. He was 17 continuing to make minor offences such as; arson, vandalizing, theft, and hardly ever getting caught, but this time that wasn't the case; he was wrongfully imprisoned for self-defense. The boy was tried as an adult. He plead that he was attacked, in the court room, but who would believe a seventeen year old?

The years passed, and he was soon granted leave as long as he was to take therapy. Although he was against it, it was worth getting out.

**Click**

"What is your name?" the doctor asked.

"Duncan."

"I'm Doctor Taylor, nice to meet you. Now tell me Duncan, what is your reason for being here?"

"Court order," replied the green and black haired man.

"I see that you were in a juvenile detention center as a child, not too long ago. Why were you in juvie?" pondered the doctor.

"Because the Canadian system is corrupt, and prohibits the use of self-defense in life threatening situations. I swear this country's run by a**holes," he said calmly.

"Language. Why did you need to use self-defense?"

"Because, I didn't want to play b*tch, so that my dad got to smack me around like an animal."

"Did you… kill him?"

"… No, but I should have."

"Do you know why your father abused you?"

"He was a drunk police officer, with daddy issues. Who knew what was going on through that f*cked up brain of his?"

"Do you ever feel like it was your fault?"

"Why should I?"

"Where was your mother through all of this?

"Probably out banging some married guy."

"Did she know this was going on?"

"I don't know. I don't think she even gave a sh*t. She'd always been going on about how I was a mistake. How she should have had an abortion. How she wished I'd never been born. She hurt me, and she didn't even need to lay a finger on me. She hates me."

"What makes you so sure?"

"She said she tried to lose the pregnancy, smoking shit and what not. She said she drank so much one night, trying to poison me, and the most she got was a nasty hangover, while I was fine."

**Beep Beep**

"We're out of time kiddo. You did really well, this being your first session and all. I want to go further into this topic in our next session, though. I know this might be hard for you, but I believe in you, and I'll be there for you every step of the way," Taylor said. "I want you to believe in you, but also in others. I fear that the trauma you've faced in your relationship with your parents may have damage your sense of trust, and I want you to learn how to trust others. Also, try and watch your language.

_Journal entry_

_Should we let our past mistakes define us, or should we let our future actions? Should we simply forgive because we know it's right or forgive because it feels right? Should life be spent worrying about all the evils in it, or rejoicing about the good?_

- _A troubled soul'_

I closed the cover of my black leather book confining all the secrets of my life. Picking myself up off my bed, I walked to my wooden easel, and grabbed a brush.

Dipping the brush in a black paint, I slowly brought it over to the white canvas, leaving my print.

I backed away from the no longer white canvas, marveling at my work. I had painted a tropical paradise half flourishing - filled with plants and animals, but then when you got to the other side, the life appeared to be sucked out of it, resembling an old desert, Many colors appeared in the tropics, each one representing an emotion, larger quantities of a color representing the abundance of that emotion. And in the left hand corner; my initials. G.M.

Her attention was fixed on two cold-blooded reptiles in terrariums; her babies. It was time that the two should have gotten fed, only there was one problem; there was nothing to feed them. She had to go to the pet store. Quickly grabbing a black coat, her house keys, and money, she left the comfort of her apartment, only to go out into the coldness, of the cruel world.

He was finally home. Finally free from the cruelty of law officials, finally safe. "Hey, Scruffy Wuffy, my reptilian friend. How ya doing today?" the man said to his green and black tarantula. "You, must be hungry, don't worry, I can fix that," he said walking over to his cupboard – empty.

The ride to the pet shop was horrible, considering she didn't particularly enjoy being confined in small spaces for long periods of time. She arrived on the bus, wearing a black jacket and gloves attempting to protect herself from nature's cruel elements. The desire to gain some warmth greatly influenced the speed she used to enter the shop. She pulled open the door.

The store welcomed her in with the chiming of bells, and the cold atmosphere was quickly replaced by a warm, friendlier one. The woman walked over to the section of the store reserved for reptiles, quickly grabbing what she needed and heading back to the counter – where she would then pay for the food.

He could hear the chiming of bells, as the door in the pet shop was fearfully slammed shut, by the ever increasing wind, denying the cold air entrance. He rubbed both hands together, trying to get their escaping warmth, to return. Unfortunately, he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going, and he walked directly into something – which actually proved to be someone. "Hey watch it!" shouted two voices in unison. After being knocked down to the floor, the man quickly got up and reached a hand out to the person he had just bumped into. The woman grabbed his hand after moments of hesitation, and was pulled up by a strong force. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Don't worry about it," said the man reaching over to pick up their items. "What kind of pet do you have?" said the man eyeing the bag of dead insects and fruits. "I have two lizards, their names are Angus and Vampyra."

"Oh that's cool. I don't know many girl's who'd choose to have lizards as their pets. I have a spider. Name's Scruffy," he replied, "I'm Duncan." "Gwen."

"Nice to meet you Gwen. Btws you're hot," he said winking.


	2. C 2: The Trial of Duncan The Accolades

Chapter 2

The Trial of Duncan and The Accolades

In the Court Room

"All Rise," said a voice entering the courtroom. A woman dressed in a long black robe, quickly made way to a giant table at the front of the courtroom, and took her seat in a chair that rose high enough, that she was overlooking the entirety of the courtroom. "What do you think?" asked a green-haired man to his brown-haired company. "I think, that with my help you'll be able to walk free," replied the woman. "Honestly, Courtney, thanks for doing this, I really appreciate it," he said. "You're just lucky I was kind enough to do this for you, you repulsive ogre, but I personally think that you're not guilty and that's the only reason why I've decided to help you. Now, we'll talk afterwards, right now we've got a trial to win," whispered the woman.

"Duncan Riverdale to the stand," echoed a loud and booming voice. The green and black haired man cautiously approached a large wooden stand, and took a seat. "I understand, that you've recently had one of your first court-ordered therapy sessions, am I correct?" asked the Judge. "Yeah," replied the man. "You will address me as your honor," the woman said. "Yes, your honor."

In the first row sat a woman with long brown hair, prepared with a suitcase, ready to defend the man. "In case,723 assault and self-defense. You were found guilty and sentenced to a couple months in a juvenile correctional facility, and allowed leave as long as you went to therapy. The defendant seems to not have been able to make it, so what do you plea?" asked the judge to the two. "Innocent, till proven guilty your honor. My client has really done nothing wrong if you look at the situation closely. If you were being beaten by your father, would you simply sit there and take the beating or would you do something to stop it, your honor? Duncan is not the perpetrator in this, um… event. He only did what he needed to do to survive. And Duncan has the constitutional right, as do all of us, to use deadly force in any situation of "extreme" danger. It was life or death your honor, and Duncan chose life, while only partially harming his father," replied Courtney Summers.

"Considering this was self-defense I find that this case is admissible, despite your criminal history – which I do understand you've served time for correct?"

"…Sure your honor," replied the man.

She continued, "As collateral I'm sentencing you to undergo at least a year of therapy unless and until your doctor decides you're ready to leave any earlier. Any complaints and you will be sent back her in order to discuss a severe punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mam, your honor," replied the delinquent. "Case closed for now, Court adjourned," said the woman smacking her mallet on the podium.

"Wow Thanks Courtney. Who knew you had a heart?" said the man as the two walked off to his car. "Duncan is it really that hard for you to say thanks without insulting me?" replied the woman, quickly walking to escape the cold. "Are you still mad about the breakup Courtney 'cause if you are, you had that one coming," said the man as he increased speed. "Oh ho ho. Don't you dare try to blame that one on me mister. I'm the one who broke up with you!" she said as she reached the door of her car, "now in case you didn't remember, I'm the one who drove you here, so unless you want to be stuck walking home, I suggest you shut your trap!" The two had reached her black 2013 Buick Invicta, and quickly entered.

"Where are we going? I want to go home," whined the man. "Duncan, quit acting like a freaking baby! Look, I got nominated as a potential receiver of the "Young Achiever" accolade, and I want to be there if I get it. Got it?" replied the speeding C.I.T. "Yeah sure whatever," he said. "Look, Duncan, I know we've had our fair share of difficulties in our relationship, and it's not right of either of us to continue this constant bickering of ours. I miss you, and I know you miss me too… I'm willing to take you back, but will you take me back?" asked Courtney. "… Sure thing Princess."

**Later that night**

A celebration was in order for the recipients of the awards, made for them by a group of friends. All award receivers were rewarded with a mini get together, in which they were a loud to invite their closest friends. It would be hard to get into the building in which the get together took place in, due to heavy security. But it could be done, especially when you're rich.

Four young faces were bombarded with "congratulations" and "we knew you could do it's," for their stellar achievements. Those four were given generous checks of $100,000.00 each, to do whatever they pleased with them, and would be featured in a local magazine. At least five people were gathered around in a fairly small room, filled with all kinds of drinks and foods, music blaring from the speakers, and one exceptionally loud blonde man shouting over the noise, wishing his girlfriend congratulations.

A strange silence filled the once lively atmosphere, and everyone's attention was diverted from the merriment, and focused on a young woman with long black hair. But this was no ordinary woman, this was a Grayson. A member of one of the most powerful family's in all of Canada's history. In her hand she held a small black leather book, and was being eyed vigorously by a black and teal haired woman. One might call the reason in which she'd been carrying the book, merely an act of jealousy – but then they'd have to determine, why she was jealous in the first place. But there seemed to be no reasonable answer to this. There was absolutely no way, she could have obtained the black book, and no explanation that could ever truly justify what she was going to do with it.

**Earlier that Evening**

The voices and applause quickly died down, as the mysterious atmosphere reentered the auditorium. A man named Dean standing at the front of the room continued speaking, to a large audience. At a red reserved table sat a very nervous teal-haired woman accompanied by an overconfident brunette. "How are you not nervous about this?" asked the teal-haired woman. She was met with a hearty laugh, "Why should I be? I'm obviously a shoe in for this award," retorted the chuckling brown-haired woman. "Nice to meet you, my name's Gwen. And I don't usually say this to people that I barely know, but could you seriously stop being bitchy for one night? That's all I ask of you," said Gwen rolling her eyes, and folding her arms.

"The next award is the 'Young Achievers Award' given to recognized youth, who are passionate in aspiring their dreams and reaching for the stars. This award recognizes it's receivers as very hard-working individuals, and congratulates them for a job well done. Without further ado, let's bring out our nominees shall we?

"Nominees for this award are; Ms. Courtney Lawson – currently working as an active lawyer, a Ms. Gwen Morgan – an exceptionally and incredibly talented, hard-working, young artisan creating masterpieces like never before scene, Trent Evans – an up and coming singer/songwriter and guitar player, who dreams to transition from being a dilettante to becoming a world renounced artist in his field. Next is the lovely Bridgette Marshal - a nature enthusiast, continually working hard to benefit the lives of human and animal kind through her work with myriad organizations. And last but not least, Harold Trotsky – an up and coming scientist, studying in multiple fields including astronomy, and bio nuclear physics, attempting to help the world through the art of science. All of these great young people deserve this award but only three out of the five of them will get it. And the award goes to… Drumroll please," asked the announcer as he was handed a red envelope by a beautiful black woman dressed in a sparkly silver dress. The C.I.T was now biting her nails much to the annoyance of the artisan.

The red letter was opened, and the announcer read the names of the three people, whose lives would be forever changed. "Harold Trotsky, Bridgette Marshall, and last but not least…."

"… Gwen Morgan! Come on up you guys!"

The whole room burst into applause as these four dilettantes, made their way up to the heavily lighted stage.

Gwen's p.o.v

My eyes widened in excitement as I felt a hand clasp my shoulder. "Get on up there," said a voice chuckling behind me. Sure enough Leshawna was there to give me the extra push I needed. I looked around as I slowly walked up to the podium. My eyes scanned the entire audience, catching two pairs of eyes that popped out over all the others. One belonged to a bubbling uptight recluse, shooting daggers at me from afar. And the other was these beautiful teal eyes that seemed to be glistening, despite the fact that the spotlight was on me. I smiled as soon as I caught the sight of a cocky, pearly-white smile that was all too familiar.

"So kiddos, or should I say young men and women, what do you plan to do with your lives in the future?" asked a bouncing host. The one million dollar question. What _did _I plan to do with my life in the future?

"Well, I plan to further a career into the study of animals and of the planet, and I hopefully will be able to graduate from vet school and become a veterinarian or a zoologist, and help the planet," she said, causing her to receive a "wooh" from her over-enthusiastic boyfriend. The host chuckled, "looks like you got yourself some fans."

"Yeah, that's my boyfriend, Geoff. Love you babe!"

The host moved on to me next, "and what about you Gwen, what do you plan to do with your life?" he asked shoving the wireless mike into my face. I felt a warm tenderly clasp my shoulder, as I accepted the microphone. I glanced into the blinding white light shining into my eyes from the spot light. "I honestly have no clue," I said, getting a chuckle from the audience. "My dream has always been to get somewhere in my life, to prove that I'm bigger than my past regrets and fails, to find something that I'm good at – a purpose. Now that I've actually gotten her, I've gotten this amazing award, I'm not sure there's anything left for me to do." Dean nodded his head understandably, "You know what Gwen, I like you – you're humble, and I respect that in person. But, just because you don't know what your going to do now, doesn't mean it won't come to you in the future. You have the potential to do great things, whether it's art or not."

"I think I've already done what I wanted to do. I went from being a little kid, who had been bullied for being who he is – growing up with a father who believes science is a waste of time, to becoming a young man who was able to prove to everyone who believed that he would amount to nothing, that he was actually destined to do something great. And this award," he said holding up the golden accolade over his head, "is proof, that whatever you set your mind to, you can achieve."

"And there you have it folks, the end of another great awards show, for amazing young dilettantes. And to all you kids and young people out there watching this, take what Mr. Trotsky said to heart – you can achieve anything you set your mind to. What a remarkable bunch. See you next year, and congratulations to all the award receivers and nominees today.

****Back to the Celebration: Before the celebration was put to hold, by it's mystery party crasher.**

_**Oh and I understand that this is confusing; especially the whole background on how Gwen and Duncan became buddy buddy, but I promise for further elaboration, later on in the story, that will be presented in flashback form. Yippee! Any questions you have feel free to ask!**_******

W/ Duncan and Gwen

"But Duncan, you're so pretty. I mean you totally have like the prettiest eyes I have ever seen," shouted a teal haired woman over the din of the party. He chuckled, "Don't call me pretty, the last guy who call me pretty, didn't look so pretty after I got through with him."

"But you wouldn't hurt me would you Duncan?" asked the teal haired woman, giving the man a pouty face. "Of course, not sunshine. I wouldn't want to damage any part of that smoking hot bod of yours, I'd find another way to get revenge," replied the punk.

"Ooh, aren't you a devious mind. Care to explain?"

"That's for me to know, and you to, hopefully, never find out unless you decide to call me pretty again," he chuckled. "Fine then, you're not pretty. You're hot, sexy, stud-like," she giggled. "Much better sweetheart, glad to know you think about me that way," replied the man. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Gwen, Duncan bro! Great to see you two have gotten yourself acquainted, and congrats dudette," said the blonde cowboy hat wearing host. "Oh yeah, totally," replied the delinquent, "I'd like to get to know her a little better if you know what I mean," he said with a wink. "Oh really Duncan? I wonder what your girlfriend would think if she heard you say that," replied Gwen.

"My girlfriend?"

"Courtney! The little b*tch who was smack talking me at the awards show? You came with her aren't you guys together?"

"Hah hah. Oh… right. Courtney… yeah."

"Is everything okay?" asked Gwen, smiling. He nodded and smiled back.

A clanking of glass could be heard as the music slowly died down. Standing on a table was an old time friend of the teal haired woman. In his hands were a glass and a spoon. "I'd like to make a toast, to all of you award winners. Congrats, and to my very own sexy, talented, badass best friend, Gwen. Love you." Following the applause the man jumped off the table, and rushed to give his friend a hug. "What are you doing here?!" screamed an excited Gwen, "I thought you were - -" she began. "Geoff, your host here, somehow got my number, and told me there was an emergency, so I came. I couldn't miss this," said her childhood best friend. "Thank you. I really appreciate it, but where re Pixie and Marilyn?"

"I don't know, I couldn't reach them."

"Oh, well thank you for being here Reaper, it's so great to see you again."


	3. Chapter 3: A Chance Encounter

The young men and women at the get together, had a feeling of being trapped – as if they were forced to be there against their own will. As if they _couldn't_ have just left at that moment. As if they couldn't have simply walked away, instead of listening and watching while a good woman got publicly humiliated, but hey. What were they to do?

The woman named Heather Grayson sat down at a stool in the middle of the room, prepared to do the unthinkable – she was prepared to destroy the life of a stranger, but for what? What could she have to gain from this action? Absolutely nothing. And that is what made it all the harder to bear. All the attention was focused on her, as she was stared at. Dared to continue. She was finally going to say something; "Hello party people. Who's up for a little story? No one? Well, that's a shame, but I'll tell you one anyways. It's about our dear friend Gwen," said the Grayson in a sarcastic voice, while pulling a small black book from a pocket in her giant coffee colored coat. "W- Where did you get that?" Gwen asked in a quiet voice. "Oh goody, you recognize it Gwen. I have my ways," said the brown-haired woman, flashing her pearly whites at the pale woman. "Now, let's begin," she said flipping randomly through the pages of the book, before halting at a journal entry.

"Journal entry #29 – 8 years old:

Dad just left to get something from the store, probbly some more booze. I don't know when he's gonna be back. I'm hiding in the closet right now. Mommy tells me to hide whenever he's drunk. She's in the hospitol right now, he pushed her dawn the stairs… the doctors say she got somthing called a commcussion I think or a comma. I hope she gets beter soon, I don't wanna be alone wit him. He hates me, he hurts me and brother.

- Gwen

Entry #1,440 – January 14:

Today's my 14th birthday, mom couldn't stay behind cuz she had to work… I asked her if I could go with her, but she said she couldn't take me with her. She's a nurse so, she thinks that's I'd get infected by one of the patients at the hospital. She doesn't make that much money, that's why we live in this crappy dump. Anyways, my dad – who I like to call the dick- will be in charge today. Mom doesn't know what he does to us…

My dad… he killed my brother about an hour ago. He was giving me crap about being worthless and my brother kind of just snapped and told him off, next thing I know, my dad's in the bathroom, mixing bleach and other chemicals in the tub, and making my brother drink it… I – I was poundin on the door as hard as I could shouting profanities at him. I heard choking and gulping and coughing, wailing and splasing. A few minutes later it went dead silent. Dad left, and I snuck in to examine my brothers lifeless bloodied body in the bathroom. It was disgusting. My Father is one fucked up guy.

He aksed me to help him carry my brother into the trunk of his car, and I couldn't say no. my bro left…and so did my spirit."

She immediately stopped reading, and looked up, to find three empty chairs and a room full of hateful glares. Her expression had totally been changed. "You sadistic bitch! I hope you're happy with what you done, 'cause you totally crossed the line this time," retorted a fuming Leshawna. "I- I'm sorry," whispered the black haired woman. "Just save it… I'm done, I think it would be best if you just left."

"Gwen!" Two voices seemed to be shouting out her name, as she ran into the safety of one of the back rooms of the building. Her world had just officially crashed and burned. She ran into one of the very large rooms, pushing open the door, designed like a bedroom. In spite of her anger, she punched one of the first things she could find – a lamp.

The girl uttered a silent cry, as her hand began to bleed, having collected glass. She crawled on her knees to the door that she had pushed open and quickly locked it, slamming the door shut. She then fell, crumpled into a heap of nothingness, screaming in rage before officially breaking down. Her uncut hand grasped at the necklace her mother had given her right before she has died, as more tears slid down her face. "Mom… I'm so sorry…" she said in between sobs. "I really need you now… why did you have to leave?" she cried, burying her face into her hands.

She tensed as she felt a hand on her shoulder, but there was nothing behind her but the door. "Gwen." She heard a familiar voice call her name, but again, there was no one there. "Don't cry for me Gwen. You've cried so many tears for me already my dear," said a magnificent voice as the tears that ran down her cheeks suddenly disappeared, as if by matching. Only it wasn't magic – the tears were wiped off. She felt it, though she couldn't see it, – it was an electrifying touch that could send chills down your spine. But not because it was cold, quite the contrary, it was rather temperate. It was perfect. Warmth filled the room - a radiance so great, a feeling so unexplainable, so unimaginable, filled her whole body. It was like a dream.

The girl finally mustered up the courage to say something, "Mom?" she asked in what she thought must've been a courageous voice, though it only turned out to be a barely audible whisper. And in front of her appeared a vision of complete and utter beauty, clothed in the purest of whites. It was a woman, and everything about her was striking, she was perfect. Her silky brown hair nicely hug her head and ran down a small length of her back, her charcoal black eyes, matching the pair on the girl, popping out in contrast of the glowing white radiance, surrounding her. The glow dimmed down, and the woman began to speak, "Yes, Gwen. It's me. I want you to know that I love you so so so so much. Infinity times infinity," said the woman in the most beautiful voice, she had ever heard. "I love you too," she stuttered back, "but you're dead. H-how are you…" The woman chuckled to herself, as she pulled the girl in for a hug.

The woman's embrace sent charges through, her daughter's body, giving her the most amazing sensations she had ever experienced. It was time for their farewell, "Good bye Gwen. And remember, I'm always with you, always watching over you. Whenever you need me, just know I'll always be in you," the woman said kissing her forehead. She soon left, in a flashing light, and the sound of the fluttering of wing. The girl touched her forehead, and slid her back against the door, as she noticed she hand been standing again. The pain in her hand had disappeared, but she never noticed, and the once broken lamp had been fixed.

Time had seemed to stop during her magical encounter, and just as soon as it had ended, tears streamed down her face again, as anger and sorrow, mixed with happiness and joy. She felt helpless.


	4. Chapter 4: The Artisan and The Artist

**Chapter 4**

The group of three stood in front of a big house, as it loomed in front of them, casting them in eerie shadow. The wind whistled in their ears of the sadness contained in the house; "murder house" as it was called. For rumors had spread through the town of a vicious killer that used to live there – who killed his wife and son, and abused his daughter. The rumors ended with the daughter being taken away from him around the time of her fourteenth birthday, and put into an orphanage by social security.

The Realtor lady, quickly, flashed a pearly white grin at the two, embracing herself to maintain body temperature, "Oh how I hate, cold fall days," she whispered.

"Shall we enter?" she raised an arm motioning towards the entrance, into the house. The black and teal haired woman quickly nodded, and hesitantly followed as the lady approached the faded oak door. The woman, glanced back at her friend who had been exceptionally quiet as of late, and in reply, he smiled and took her hand as they entered the house.

**Let's go back in time**

Time seemed to have stopped during the moment of her bizarre encounter, for once her mother's spirit left, so did her sense of security.

**_*Duncan and Trent*_**

Footsteps races through the apartment, as two young men followed the razed path of the black-and-teal haired woman. One pair belonging to a punk delinquent, the other belonging to a prosaic music-playing maniac. Soon a third pair of footsteps joined the race, chasing after the delinquent.

"Duncan, wait up!" cried an obnoxious voice. The green-haired man was grabbed by a strong force, which caused him to ultimately stop in his tracks. The woman who had been chasing after the delinquent, she was now bent over, attempting to catch her breath. "Why are you chasing after her?" asked the woman drawing big breaths. "What do you mean 'why am I chasing after her'?" he asked scrutinizing the brown-skinned woman. "I…it's just that, you barely know her, and – you've been spending a lot of time together with her lately…"she replied, " and I'm you girl-" she began raising her voice. She was cut off. "Just don't say it, Courtney. Please. You're always talking about this relationship crap, but I'm in it, and I'm not even sure if we're dating anymore. We've been so on and off lately, between the trial and everything else… And if you're going to get jealous every time I'm hanging out with a friend that happens to be a girl – if you can't trust me, then I don't even know why you bother going out with me." The tension in the air grew, as the punk began to turn away, "Let's just talk about this," pleaded the woman. "No. Not now... We'll talk about this later Courtney, 'cause I can't do this anymore."

By this time the musician had already reached his destination.

He cautiously walked to the open door and gazed at the mess before him. Broken shards of glass were left scattered on the floor, near a broken lamp covered in a dark red liquid. His eyes were fixed on a locked door, from which he could hear the faint sobs of a broken woman… He slid his back down against the closet door, and lay his head against it, hearing heavy breathing, as if someone were hyperventilating. ***Author's note: In my story, Gwen is claustrophobic, but just understand that not all cases of claustrophobic, are so severe that it would cause a person to not want to be in any type of room. If that's not clear enough here's a clearer explanation; The space in the closet is fairly big, so it doesn't feel as confined. That's why she's not really freaking out - just hyperventilating. Thnx for your patience, dudes and dudettes.***

"Heyy, are you okay?" asked the man, all he heard in response were stifled sobs. "I am really sorry about Heather, she can be a total bitch sometimes, but you shouldn't let that get to you. No one here is going to judge you, or think any less of you for what happened, if that's what you're worried about." The sobs, grew quiet and the man sighed. "Oh, so you're giving me the silent treatment, huh? Very mature," he said. "Go away…" sniffed the woman.

The musician smiled to himself,

"Heyy that's still an improvement at least you're talking to me. But what I'd love even more than that, is if you'd come out so I can see you." On the other side of the door, the artist narrowed her eyes, "why are you even here?" her voice cracks. "Because I want to help you."

The woman took a minute to think of a reply, " I don't need your help. And even if I did, why would you want to help me? You don't even know me."

"Well… I'd like to get to know you a little better," replied the man outside the door. A blush crept on her face as she heard these words. She paused for a minute to contemplate, what to say. "Thanks for your concern, but I don't need your help." The virtuoso nodded his head, "I understand that you don't need my help, you seem like an autonomous woman but," he sighed, "I really like you – I've been infatuated with you ever since I first laid eyes on you, while you were speaking at the awards show. I know we don't really know each other, but I think you're really pretty and – would you be my girlfriend?"

Behind the door sat the woman, with her eyes growing wide in amazement, "Wow, good timing. Couldn't have found a better time and place to ask me that?"

"Oh come on," said the guitarist, "you can't say no to a guy who plays guitar." Grinning he got on one knee, "I'm on my knees now, so you're, like, required to say yes."

"How can I know, for sure? I can't even see you?"

"Open, the door, and then you'll be able to see me. Simple as that."

The guitar man awaited her response, and he heard the click of the bedroom door, indicating that she had unlocked it. The door creaked as it was slowly pulled open. In front of Gwen was her musically inclined knight in shining armor, kneeling on one knee, as was told of him. He grinned at the puffy eyed woman, and she crossed her arms in front of him, smiling herself. "What do you say, will you go out with me?" asked the young virtuoso. Nodding her head, she smiled, "Ok."

"OK?"

"Yeah, ok." She giggled.

***Authors note: Its 12:00 am, ladies and gentlemen here's your corny ending. Part three will be posted tomorrow... I mean later today, and it will be about the "Poor Little Rich Girl" part of the story.***

The girl was then lifted up and twirled in the air.

The movement ceased, and her feet touched the ground again. The two inched forward, her icy cool breath tickling the top of his Chap Stick covered lips, "Don't do that again,"she chuckle-whispered. The warmth of two plump, moist lips collided with the peppermint cool of a pair of teal-colored lips; longing for the intimate human contact that has escaped their grasp for too many years.

The two slowly broke apart, and the woman looked to the floor grinning. "Haha what?" asked the guitar man. "That was probably the best kiss of my life," she looked up blushing. "You are too cute," said Trent pulling her into her tight embrace, and for the first time in their lives, in her life, she felt safe. She was happy. She found love.

***Author's note: Aww how disgusting. :)** **Don't worry, Gwent will soon die! Long live Gwuncan! This relationship is merely for the sake of character development, which I think is very crucial in the development of character development. I mean in the development of a "good" story... I'm tired. So yes, they'll be together for a while, but that doesn't mean that there won't be any Gwuncan moments in the coming chapters. I'm sounding like a total girl now, this is was sleep deprivation does to a person.***


	5. Ch 5 Retrocognition and Repentance p1

Chapter 5: Retro cognition and Repentance part 1

**Gwen's P.o.v: First person p.o.v.**

****AN: Don't worry I didn't forget what I promised about this being a Heather Chapter I just thought this part that you're gonna read would be important. You know, for character development.** **This chapter will actually have a Duncney moment in it, short and not sweet… And yeah, I lied I'm sorry; this chappie does focus on Heather and Alejandro, but it'll also be about Trent and Gwen's relationship. The GxT and HxA p.o.v will be half and half, meaning that they'll be taking up almost equal… amounts of this chapter. It'll go back and forth. Hey, but look at it this way, the sooner I can get through with GxT, the sooner I can make the Gwuncan moment, and the sooner I make the moment, the sooner I can break up Gwen and Trent. It'll all be worth it soon enough. Sorry for the long authors note. Without further ado … on with the story. : AN** **

I looked through the large mirror wrapping my white bath towel around me. I pulled a few loose strands of hair, away from their current position on my forehead, as I gazed at my reflection on the bathroom mirror.

I slowly dropped my towel, letting it hit the tile floor, making a small thud sound, but practically no noise at all. The water in the bath tub, had reach its full capacity, as I quickly shut it off, and stepped in.

My bare back slid against the cool glass of the white tub, and I became immersed in bubbly water. No one was home, no one but me. The air around me grew cold, and the temperature dropped significantly. Chills ran up and down my spine, but it was as if I were comatose. I felt a presence in the room with me. Had my eyes been open, I would have been amazed to see an inky black shadow-like figure, which looked like a human, creeping along the walls. It felt unsafe, It meant me harm, but movement was out of my capabilities. The presence felt dark, and heavy. Reaction was key at this point in time, but I just sat silently, waiting to become a victim. I closed my eyes…

_"You bitch, look what you did!" screamed the voice of a man. In front of him stood a trembling girl, with hair dark as night, in the illuminated hallway right outside the bathroom. "…It was an accident…" she whispered, barely audibly, as she gazed upon a heap of broken shards of glass lay on the floor, having lost its former lamp state._

_She was knocked to the ground by a great force, as shards of glass pierced through her skin. She didn't cry, she never cried – it would only make things worse. By now she knew not to yell – to scream in defiance or protest. She was numb, and the various shouts flying across the room almost went unnoticed, but she quickly snapped out of it. "You f*cking a*shole. What the hell did you go and hit her for?" It was an accident," shouted a young boy, about her age._

_The next thing she knows, the man throws a punch. And drags the screaming boy by the neck of his shirt, and begins to drag his struggling body to the bathroom._

_She tries to stop him. She kicks him everywhere she can, tries to jump on him and topple him over, bites and scratches. But to no avail, she's pushed out of the way and falls to the floor. The man drags the boy into the bathroom and shuts the door. Noises could be heard coming out of the locked door._

_The whole house grew quiet._

_The sound of the splashing of liquids, and drowned scream, soon broke the silence. Shouts could be heard coming from the man – shouts of victory and accomplishment echoed through the still house. Growing more violent by the minute, until finally, the noises faded down, and the house was suffocated by a dead-like silence._

_By the time it seems like it's all over, one last sound breaks the silence. A gritty scratching sound. It goes once, twice, and finally a third time before a faint red-ish glow, dances along the seams of the bathroom door. Coughing could be heard, and that meant that the girl still had some hope left, that a miracle might have happened and her brother might still be alive._

_A faint plopping sound could be heard – the sound that a small object makes, when it is thrown inside a body of water. The sound of flames roared, as smoke and heat escaped from underneath the door – illuminating the seams of the bathroom door all the more. The coughing grew more intense, and finally it stopped. In a hissing sound, the luminescence had disappeared, and the smell of burning flesh mixed with other horrible odors slowly entered the quieted hallway._

_The handle of the door turned, and the door was opened. The smoke dispersed into the hallway. Out walked a man, drenched in blood and various liquids on his hands and clothing, seemingly passive after what had just transpired. He walked past a sobbing girl, with a grin forming on her face, as soon as she heard her gasp after seeing the mayhem left behind the once closed door. A bloodied, burned, corpse lay partially in the tub, and on the floor of the bathroom. Bone exposed, face and extremities apparently elongated. She knew the victim, but for someone walking into the house right at that moment, the mangled and disintegrated thing that lay in the bathroom, could hardly have ever passed off as a human being. The man continued on walking, and for a while, she was the only living person left in the house._

_He came back half an hour later, covered in mud and drenched in water. Remember, this was not a premeditated murder it was spontaneous in every way shape and form. Tracking mud on the floor, he made his way to the bathroom, where he'd committed his first crime. The girl was still there, sitting in the hallway, crawled up in a little ball, slowly rocking herself as she stared at the crime scene before her like a deer in front of a pair of headlights. "What are you looking at?" asked the man in a cold and stern voice, "get off your lazy ass and help me clean this mess up, or I swear I'll do the same thing to you as I did to your brother." His voice was menacing, but the girl remained passive just as he had been a few minutes earlier. She got up, tear stains crusted at the lids of her eyes, and slowly walked to the door of the bathroom, breathing in the intoxicating smell of the mix of blood, vomit, burned flesh, chemicals, and perspiration. She crouched to the floor and lifted up her brother's mangled torso off the cold tile floor, tears streaming down her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear._

_He drove her to a clearing in the forest not so fat from their house, and quickly parked his car in front of a prematurely dug up hole. The two creatures of the night carried the body into the opening of the ground, and dropped it in._

_The work was tiresome, and took hours without breaks. The ground was smoothed out to match the look of the surrounding area in the light of the shining moon. After hours of silence the man finally smoke; "Happy Birthday, Gwenny," he whispered in a low voice._

She sat in that very tub, as she watched a black manifestation approach her very location.

%%%

**Heather**

The cool metal of her keys clattered as they came in contact with the cool glass table of her Victorian manor. She watched as her well-groomed white tabby strutted across the carpeted floor, purring all the way. "Hey Bruiser. How's my little prince today?" A purr was her answer, and she smiled – removing her coat. "Well, I'm glad you're okay, I'm pleased that the maids have treated you well. I've had a long day. I did a very bad thing today Bruiser. I hurt someone who didn't ever deserve any of the bad things that have happened to her. But, I didn't know." The cat purred once again, "I know I shouldn't have done it in the first place. I know what I'm gonna do, I'll try and find her and as soon as I do, I'll apologize," the woman said. The cat purred in satisfaction, as she tickled the back of his ears. As soon as she stopped, he began to clean himself. "Oh come on Bruiser, which is so totally gross."

The ring of a doorbell interrupted her little chat with her cat. She got up from her white and black designer couch, and went to open the gates to her mansion. How could such a wealthy existence feel so empty?

_***Flash Back***_

"_Hello darling," said a man to his daughter. "Hello father, how are we today?" asked a young black-haired girl. The gray-haired man sighed, "Not so good sweetheart. You're mother and I got into a little argument," the man said quietly putting down a glass of wine. "Do you want to make daddy feel better?" The girl, who could be no younger than 9, quickly nodded her head. _

_Her father took her by the hands and walked her over to his room, carefully closing the door behind him as they entered. The girl let go of his hand, and stood still right in front of the closed door. The man sat on the bed. "Come here sweetie," he called in a sickeningly sweet voice. The girl inched forward, slowly taking each step by-step-by-step. As soon as they were of arms-length from each other, the girl's father grabbed her arms, and pulled her closer. His hands coursed up and down the lengths of her arms, back and forth and back and forth. "D-d-dad, I'm scared," whispered the girl. "Don't be scared honey, daddy love you. He would never hurt you, you're gonna like this."_

"_I'm just going to unzip you dress, sweetie. Everything's gonna be fine."_

_***End Flash Back***_

"_Hello Ms. Grayson, how has your day been going?" asked the maid, as she entered the house. "Not so good Tonya. But… I don't really want to talk about it right now."_

"_Oh, um forgive me madam, Ms. Lucero told me to tell you that she scheduled a business dinner for the both of you. The Grayson name seems to have gotten quite famous ever since you're father signed a deal with some potential investors. A potential job offer will be discussed at the dinner, you could be modeling for a huge clothes line," said Tonya. Heather's face grew a small smile, "that's great news Tonya. Thank you for telling me." The maid nodded, "forgive me for asking, but is everything okay?" asked the maid taken aback by the girl's newly-appeared gentle nature. "No," the girl shook her head, "not really. Look, I appreciate the fact that you're so worried, but I promise – if anything ever comes up, I'll try and make sure that you're the first to know."_

"_Thank you, and one more thing. You'll be dining with a friend of your father, who potentially might be modeling with you – if you get accepted," said the maid. "What's his name?"_

"_Alejandro Cardenas Burromuerto Garcia Shapiro, but you can just call him by Burromuerto," giggled the maid in amusement. "Ooh, that's a long name. Is he royalty?"_

"_No, well, kind of. He's the son of a very wealthy Hispanic donor; his father is chancellor of Spain. If you get in a good position with him that could be very good for your father."_

"_Yes, of course, all the best for daddy," replied the woman in monotone voice, "Tonya, do you think mother still remembers me? I don't know… It's been years since I last saw her." She looked up at her maid. "Oh señorita, I don't know… I would love to hope so, but, things don't always happen the way we want or plan for them to happen. You've grown up to be so beautiful, so independent. I'm sure any mother would love to have you as their daughter." The woman chuckled, "I don't think so, Tonya. You say we've all done bad in our lives, but – I've hurt so many good people without cause. You say we've all done wrong, and whether or not we deserve to be forgiven we still should get a fair chance at redemption. But, Tonya, I think I've fallen too deep down to be pulled back up – to be forgiven," she looked up out of her train of thought, to see a concerned face staring back down at her. "I'm sorry Tonya; I don't mean to bring you down like this." The maid was at a loss for words, she knew not what to say. "Please don't say that señorita. In our lives we have made, and will continue to make much mistakes, but as long as we realize those mistakes, and try to not make them anymore, we can always be forgiven. We aren't perfect, no one is but God. In the Bible it say that God sent his only son, to the Earth to die, so that if we believe in him, when we make these mistakes we will always be forgiven. Don't fret; you should be getting ready for your dinner date. Now go and wear something pretty and get yourself dolled up."_

"_Thank you Tonya, really. Dad never read the Bible to me before." She thought about what Tonya had said. Did this justify her father's actions? Or not, because he seems to not have ever thought of what he did as wrong? _

_Duncan and Courtney_

_The two sat together in his apartment. It wasn't too shabby. He had one bedroom, one bathroom, one kitchen, one ghetto T.V - one of everything. He didn't have much, but it was better than nothing._

_He didn't have much, but it was better than nothing._

_The paint was peeling off the walls, exploiting a musty brownish yellowish background. The air conditioner was broken – leaving the two with good old fashioned wind powered air conditioning. "You should really get this place fixed up," said a mocha-skinned girl, as she snuggled up to her boo, and he held her close –of course only as long as she told him he could. "You're right totally right, darling. But everybody can't be an overachieving lawyer like you. Money's hard to come by," he said circling his index finger around her shoulder. "I am sorry Duncan; I didn't mean to be insensitive about that,"_

"_You don't need to be sorry Court – I get that I need money," said the man standing up from his position on the couch._

"_You know, if you're having trouble finding a job, I could always put in a good word for you at the law firm. Who knows, I might be able to land you a job as someone's assistant," replied the delinquent's girlfriend. _

_He edged over to a table on which lay a giant terrarium. He slowly opened it up, and carefully removed a beautiful green and black male tarantula, and held it in his hand. "Eww!" shrieked his girlfriend, "what are you doing with that?!" He laughed. "What. I'm holding my pet spider. Is that such a crime?" "Just please don't come near me with that thing, you know I don't like bugs," replied the now nearly hyperventilating woman. "Again Court, Scruffy is not a bug, he's a reptile. Aren't you Scruffy wuffy?" said the man fawning over his pet. "Duncan, we are so not having this argument again. Now about my offer, what do you think?" replied his arachnophobic girlfriend. "Firstly, aren't you the one that said 'fear is only in the mind' when you were trying to help me get over my thing with those creepy Celine Dion music store standees?" responded the green and black haired man. "Ugh, whatever! Just answer the question!" she snapped back. "A little quieter Courtney, you know Scruffy goes into kill mode when he hears loud noises. Anyways, thanks for the offer babe, but the last thing I wanna be is some stuck-up d**ks b**ch," he replied. "Hey, language. And not all lawyers are bad, I mean look at me," said the man's defensive girlfriend. "And what point are you trying to prove exactly?" She gasped, "Wow, Duncan. That hurt. Thank you. That just reminded me that we have a dispute to settle." He replaced the arachnid back into his (spiders) terrarium, before plopping himself back down on the couch. "And what discussion is that?" _

"_Don't you remember, from the, um, get together? Who is this Gwen character, that you seem to be so fond of, and how do you two know each other?" asked the mocha-skinned woman. "Oh. My. Gosh. Courtney, look, she's just some chick I've run into a couple times. We've hung out, and I'm helping her with some personal stuff."_

"_Personal stuff? What kind of personal stuff?" pondered the lawyer. "Princess, look – first of all, my relationships are none of your business, and secondly, I'm sorry but I can't tell you. Hence the term 'personal stuff.' You understand, right?"_

"_No, I don't understand," she sighs, "We'll continue this discussion later; I got to go to work. Bye."_

"_Bye," he said rolling his eyes, as soon as his girlfriend had left the apartment._

_He pulled out his cell phone;_

_**TO: Gwen Morgan**_

'_**What's up sunshine?'**_

_She quickly wiped her hands on her faded no longer blue jeans, leaving various colors behind, and she reached for her now vibrating phone that shook on a table. Picking it up, she began to read a newly obtained message. From Duncan._

'_**What's up sunshine?'**_

'_**Heyy Duncan, Not much just painting.'**_

'_**hmmm...'**_

'_**What?'**_

'_**U haven't come up with a nickname 4 me yet'**_

'_**Oh no! I'll totally add that on my list of things to do today'**_

'_**No, no, no. Nicknames should be spontaneous. Don't think about it, let it come to you.'**_

'_**Yeah yeah, sure thing juvie.'**_

'_**hmm, that's not wat I would've thought of but juvie's fine. Haven't been to juvie in a while tho…'**_

'_**Oh wow, that's sooooo interesting. Really, good to know'**_

'_**Sweet heart, I invented sarcasm and I never gave u permission to use it' **_

'_**Cute'**_

'_**What did I say about the cute thing?'**_

'_**Oh right. My bad'**_

'_**Im bored, u wanna get together l8er?'**_

'_**Yeah sure, what time do you have planned?'**_

'_**How's 7-ish?'**_

'_**ooh, that won't work. Got plans then… But I'm free now'**_

'_**Yea that's fine… what kind of plans u have? ;)'**_

'_**Oh you know… just plans with the bf'**_

'_**Woah Gwen, I nvr agreed 2 being ur bf or anything ;)'**_

'_**Oh yeah. I'm totally heart broken. His names Trent btw. Talk 2 u bout it when u get here. K?'**_

'_**Yeah, sure thing sweetheart. See you soon"**_

_**Heather's p.o.v**_

_I walked into the Chambrouleigh, one of the most exquisite restaurants in our area. The walls were covered with yellow and gold paints, and the interior was decorated with the most beautiful and exquisite plants, I had ever laid my eyes on, and in center of the interior, stood a magnificent water fountain. The five star rating was certainly underestimated._

_****Okay, I'm kind of getting tired of the first person p.o.v, so I'm gonna be switching to omniscient just cuz I can. ****_

"_Hello," said the woman to a man standing behind a gold-colored podium, "I'm Heather Grayson. I understand that I have a reservation here – I'm meeting up with Ms. Lucero." _

_****A.N.; Hey, People. If you want to know what Heather is wearing, I'll tell you… But before I do, just know that I had it beautifully written before my stupid computer decided to restart, for no apparent reason, and kill all of my writing. Aren't I lucky? ;**_

_**She was dressed in a white short sleeved, ruffle-pleated, button-up blouse, over a simple purple spaghetti strap tank top, accompanied by a pair of ruffled short shorts in a shade of jade. And finally, la piece de resistance, a pair of coco-colored, one of a kind, Gucci sunglasses. She did nothing special with her hair; it was simply cut short and straight. Now For her shoes; she wore a pair of jade-colored high heels, studded with super tiny, very real, white diamonds. ****_

"_Oh, yes of course, Ms. Grayson. You didn't have to say all that. I recognize you; you're the daughter of Alexander Grayson. Your table is over there," said the man pointing to a red clothed table, secluded from the numerous white tables that occupied a large amount of the room behind the lobby. "Thank you," she said as she made her way into the dining room. "Um, b-before you go," stuttered the man, "Yes?" she asked, stopping in her tracks. "May I have your autograph?"_

"_Hey, Lupe," called the woman as she approached a round red table, with three black chairs. "Oh, Heather!" cried a brown-haired woman, with brown-skin, seated at the table, "I'm glad you could make it, and I see you're as fashionable as always. Love the outfit, truly, love it," said Lupe, embracing the black-haired woman. "Is Alejandro here yet?" asked Ms. Grayson. "Oh no," said Lupe, "It seems like he'll be running a little late. But he should be here fairly soon." _

_A brown-haired Hispanic male approached the two seated at the red table, hair and silver earrings shining in the light of the Chambrouleigh. His attire was fairly simple, compared to the woman's. He was dressed in a white partly buttoned-up shirt, with a black vest top, and blue jeans. Lupe instantly stood up as soon as she spotted the man, and the two embraced. _

"_Hola_ _Lupe, ¿Cómoestás?" asked the man in a heavy accent. _"_Estoy muy bien, gracias. ¿Y tú?" replied the brown-haired woman. _"_Estoy bien demasiado," he replied, looking at his watch, "Lo siento. Soy un poco tarde." "Es bueno. Ella se llama Heather," replied Lupe, gesturing towards the woman in white and jade, seated at the table. "Hello, looking very lovely today, Heather. Nice to meet you," replied Alejandro, eyeing the woman in white with his piercing olive green eyes, as he pulled out his hand. "Likewise," said Ms. Grayson, shaking his hand. _

"_So as you both know, we are here to discuss your conceivable positions in the up-and-coming clothing line advertisement. Now whether or not you get the job, is not in my hands, nut if you do, there is the possibility that you might be collaborating with each other while modeling," said Lupe gazing at the two, Both gave faint nods as signs of their understanding. Lupe took a sip of wine, left upon the table. She continued, "so, in spite of this, it is both of your father's desire that you two get to know each other on a ... Non-professional, um, basis." The woman in white interjected, "daddy said that?" Lupe nodded. "Yes, Heather, actually the idea was pitched by Alejandro's father, and your father merely approved." "My father did what?" asked the man. "Well, he wanted you two to get to know each other," replied Lupe. "But, we're not kids, he can't just schedule a little play date for us," said Heather. "Hey, guys, take it to the chancellor, if you wish, I'm only following orders. Now, I'll continue. Alejandro, you already know a little about Heather, the daughter of one of the most powerful men of our time. So, it's Heather's turn to get to know you, You can just have like, a friendly little Q&A session, and take turns asking and answering questions" replied Lupe. Ms. Grayson shot back a rather forced smile, "sounds fair enough," she said. Alejandro's facial expression after hearing this was one of a gaze - a gaze that one might call uncomfortable, but that is merely an opinion._

_The dinner ended fairly quickly, and the Alejandro and Heather were left alone in each other's company. "So, how'd you get into the modeling business?" asked the woman with the onyx eyes. "Oh, you know, just hard work, I actually worked to get to where I am, and to land this position. I traveled here all the way from Spain, on my hard earned money. I didn't get everything handed to me on a silver platter. But I guess you wouldn't know what that's like," said the Spaniard lashing out on the woman. She was taken back, "Whoa, hold on there. Where did that come from? I thought you liked me, she replied. "Not everyone is going to like you señorita. I will merely be working with you on account of my father, and the fact that I see it as an opportunity to gain money, that I could potentially use to help out my friends back in Spain. Otherwise, I do it for no other reason."_

"_What's your point," she asked. "My point is that I don't like you because, you do what you do for no other reason than to please yourself, I bet you haven't even donated to charity once in your life."_

"_What's charity?" The man palmed his forehead, "That is where I find you at fault." "Wait, wait, wait," she said raising both arms in the air, "You don't like me… because I'm rich?"_

"_Precisely," said the man, standing up from the table. "You're rich too," she retorted. "I'm not selfish," he countered. "But everybody likes me. I mean – look at me, I'm Heather Grayson. Daughter of one of the most powerful men, like ever," she replied. "Heather, people are going to like you if you're caring, not because you have a powerful daddy. Money doesn't buy friendship. Tell me this, I know for a fact that you have millions of dollars, but exactly how many friends do you have?" _

"_I'll have you know, I have a bunch of friends," countered the woman. "Really?" asked the man, narrowing his eyes at her, "name one."_

_She observed him in disbelief. Surely he could not be serious. "Are you serious?" asked the woman. "I'm more than serious," replied the man. "Fine; Lupe," she said. "Doesn't count," taunted Alejandro. "That's not fair," she whined. "Look. I don't have all day señorita. Please continue if you have something worthwhile to say, otherwise let me be on my way."_

"_Okay, I have a friend named – Tonya," she said. "Oh, and does this Tonya work for you?" inquired the man. "Yes…"_

"_Case closed," he replied rising once more. "Oh yeah? So what if I can't name any of my friends? Let's see you name some of yours," retorted the woman rising as well. "José, Ricardo, Esteban, Alberto, Juan, Cassandra, Marisol, is that enough for you?"_

"_Oh whatever," she replied rolling her eyes, "for the sake of business, I'll merely tolerate you despite how much I can't stand you right now." _

"_How about we come up with a compromise, okay? We continue to act friendly in front of the adults, but as soon as it's over, we can go back to hating each other. __**Otherwise**__, I'll go on my way from this point on, and you go yours – no meeting in between, and we never see or collaborate with each other again," he said. "Good enough for me," replied the woman, reaching out her freshly manicured hand. Alejandro, graciously accepted it. "Gracias. This meeting has been lovely," he said as they shook their hands. "Ditto." _


	6. update

**...update...**

**id like to say thanks to all the people who have, favorited, followed, and reviewd this story it really means a lot. over the course of however many months its been since i updated this, i came to a realization. this story didnt come out how id origanally expected it. and due to a lack of planning and preparation and pretty much spontaneous story line i have lost my muse. the upside is that i have already figured out where im heading with the story, i now have a plan that i plan on sticking with. so this story is permanately on hiatus just cuz i dont feel like deleting it. ill be creating another story with the same title minus the poor little rich girl thing. this story will only focus on gwen, duncan, courtney, and trent. heather and alejandro wont be in it anymore. i will however be making a story about heather and alejandro sometime in the late winter if i find the time to write while not working on my honors classes... so yeah. sorry if anyone was actually looking foward to reading the rest of this story, though i doubt it, but rereading the story for myself really... opened my eyes, so to speak, and i loathe the way i wrote this. thanks for reading. ill be posting the new version tomorrow hopefully or later today and the story willl start of either during gwen and duncan's childhoods, or at like a chasing sequence somewhere in the middle of the story, that i'll eventually explain, and then i'll work my way to the beginning. im not sure yet, thinking at one am isnt my strong suit, so for understanding dudes and dudettes.**


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